


Letterbox Love

by DrakkHammer



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: FiKi adorableness, It's amazing what you can find at 5 in the morning, M/M, Spring FRE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-24
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2018-06-04 05:17:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6642826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrakkHammer/pseuds/DrakkHammer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the SpringFRE prompt 22: “How in the hell did you get stuck in THERE?"   Having seen Dean tell the story, I couldn't resist.</p><p>Link to Dean telling the story of when he really did get stuck in his letterbox. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5-uJ3eCBBLY"><strong>Letterbox story</strong></a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Letterbox Love

 

It was not quite 5am. Kili was drunk.

Very drunk.

He had been out celebrating getting the new job. They had been doing shots and somehow it had turned into a contest.

Kili had never played beer pong before – especially not with shots. He was pretty damn sure he didn’t want to play it again.

He was a little foggy on whether he’d won or lost.

Actually, he was a little foggy on everything at the moment.

The one thing he wasn’t foggy about was that there was an arse sticking out of the letterbox at the end of the hall.

What the everloving fuck?

He was almost afraid to approach it in case it turned out to be a figment of his very drunken imagination.

The arse wiggled and then kicked, a string of muffled swear words accompanying the kick.

It was no figment.

From the accent, the arse was a Kiwi.

From the volume and vehemence of the swearing, he was also very very pissed off.

Some arsehole (excuse the pun) was either attempting a piss-poor method of breaking and entering, or was jammed in his own letterbox.

Kili’s first reaction was to pull out his phone and take a few snaps. If nothing else they would serve as proof that he wasn’t as drunk as he felt at the moment.

His second reaction was that the poor fecker probably needed a hand. Or maybe a foot. He contemplated the wiggling arse and it occurred to him that it was a very nice arse. He stared at it for a few moments; drunkenly trying to process a coherent thought beyond how round and muscular said arse was.

A whimper from the other side of the door kicked his brain into gear.

“You stuck?”

Not the best question, since the answer was quite literally staring him in the face.

Also not the best question to receive a polite response.

“What the fuck do ya think, ya stupid cunt?” came the immediate reply. More invective followed, spoken too quickly for Kili to process.

“Should I push?” The Irishman had no idea what to do and his pickled brain wasn’t being very helpful.

“Yeah sure, give it a try.” The voice sounded hopeful.

Kili took a deep breath, put a hand on each cheek and pushed.

Hard.

The scream punctuated by a string of indecipherable swear words convinced Kili not to try that again.

“Sorry, mate. How about if I pull?”

“Not so hard this time,” came the muffled reply.

Kili fitted his hands around the man’s waist and tugged a little.

“Harder. Pull harder.”

Kili pulled harder.

There was another scream and he let go abruptly.

“I’m sorry.”

“S’okay,” came the reply. “I moved, pull again and don’t stop until I tell you to.”

Kili pulled.

The arse in the letterbox moved.

Kili pulled.

The arse in the letterbox groaned and cursed, but didn’t tell him to stop pulling.

Kili kept pulling and the arse started to move toward him.

He was dizzy from the bending down. He felt nauseous, but swallowed hard. Puking on some poor bastard stuck in the fecking wall was going to add insult to injury. He swallowed hard again and kept pulling.

The arse moved a little, revealing a tanned, toned naked back.

Kili forgot what he was doing and contemplated the anatomy in front of him.

“Harder!”

He stopped staring and pulled harder, ignoring the steady stream of curses that got louder when he tried to stop tugging. He felt a bit of give and suddenly the man shot out of the letterbox like a cork out of a bottle.

He landed on Kili, sprawling across the Irishman’s stomach, completely knocking the wind out of him. The arse that was formerly in the letterbox wasn’t faring much better and the two of them lay in the hall gasping for breath.

The arse recovered first and rolled off of Kili. “Sorry mate, I thought I’d fit.”

Kili took a deep breath and hoped the hallway would stop spinning. He was way too drunk to make any sense out of someone getting stuck in a letterbox. And athletic rescue attempts were defiantly a crap idea when you were the possible winner of a shot pong tournament.

The arse in the letterbox sat up and Kili blinked. The arse was connected to a naked, muscular chest, topped by a face that could only be described as “pretty.”

The face atop said arse smiled and Kili lost what little remained of his brains.

“Oh my fuckin’ god…”

Oh shit, had he said that out loud?

“What?”

Kili managed to gather up enough sense to reply. “Uh, your chest. You scraped the fuck out of it.”

The young man looked down and made a face. “Bloody hell, I’m gonna be in deep shit.”

“Why?” was the only thing Kili could think of to say.

“Because the director is going to have a shit fit and makeup is gonna be so pissed at me.” He looked at the floor. “Fuck me for being an idiot who can’t remember to take his own damn door keys with him.”

The Irishman was far too drunk to process more than the thought of forgetting his keys. “S’allright, mate. Everyone forgets their keys now and again.” He didn't add that most people probably wouldn't try to crawl through their own letterbox to get in. 

The reply was bitter with anger at his own stupidity. “But they don’t all have a crew depending on them not to get hurt so I can still shoot tonight.”

Kili blinked. He decided to fess up. “I’m sorry. I’m too drunk to follow what you’re saying. But it seems like a few plasters should fix you up so you can put a shirt on.”

The blond shook his head, a sad expression on his face. "I don't have a shirt when I work. It's a vest and my chest is bare a lot. I really fucked up this time."

"Yeah, a guess you did," Kili admitted, unable to process the concept of a job where you worked half naked. "Look it’s late. Or early. Or something. Come on to my flat and get you cleaned up. Maybe it's not as bad as it looks."

The blond looked unconvinced.

"You can't just sit here bleeding all over the hallway." Kili stood up. "I'm just a couple'a doors down. I think I've got some antiseptic and I'm pretty sure I bought a box of plasters when I moved in."

He got a few steps down the hall and noticed that the blond wasn't following him.

"Come on. I'm too drunk to bite."

That made the blond laugh and Kili's heart did a little flip. Shit, there was nothing like making a first impression as a drunk. Maybe he should hurl and then pass out just to complete the picture.

Apparently he looked relatively harmless as the blond got up, followed him down the hall, and waited patiently until Kili managed to get the right key and unlock the door.

"The loo is the second door on the right. I'm going to go make some coffee."

The coffee was done and Kili was wincing his way through a too hot, too black and bitter mug of the stuff when the blond reappeared. The Irishman blinked as he looked at the blond's chest. It was now two definite colors - a pale streak that extended over the center of his chest and one nipple. The rest was the dark bronze of a sun worshipper.

"You're fading," Kili pointed out helpfully.

The blond looked down and made a face. "Naw, that's just makeup. I hope it comes out of your cloth and towels okay," he replied flippantly as he reached past Kili to score a cup out of the open cabinet and pour himself a cup of coffee.

Unlike Kili, he doctored it heavily with sugar and milk. He took a big sip and sighed. "This will probably keep me up but fuck it, I don't think I can sleep anyway."

He collapsed into a chair and looked up at Kili. "Since I'm imposing on you I suppose I should introduce myself. "I'm Forrest Oakes, but everyone calls me Fili."

He extended his hand and Kili took it. He held it for a moment looking into impossibly blue eyes. "Forrest Oaks, huh? I can see why you’d be Fili. I'm Kieran Durin."

He let go of Fili's hand and leaned back against the cabinet, grinning. "You're not going to believe this, but I go by Kili because my dad is _the_ Kieran."

" _The_ Kieran?"

"Yeah, he was the top scoring player with the Bohemians football club. Which is a kind’a big deal where I’m from. He was disappointed that I didn't have much interest in football." Kili gave an embarrassed shrug. "I'm more of a nerd. I'd rather hack around on a computer than get the shite kicked out of me on a football field."

Fili grinned. "I can't say as I blame you. I like to watch football, but I'm too little to play. They just ran right over me and left footprints."

"You're not that little."

The protest made Fili laugh. "Not so much anymore, but I was when I was in school. I still don't look twenty-three." He took a sip of his coffee. "But then if I did I wouldn't have gotten this role, so it’s all good.

"What are you, some kind of actor? Is that why..." Kili gestured at Fili's two-toned chest.

"Oh yeah. I'm Iolaus, Hercules best friend," he said not without pride.

"Hercules is the big guy, lots of muscles." Kili was dredging his pickled brain trying to wake the hamster up.

"Not exactly. I'm in 'Young Hercules' so the muscles are smaller. Actually, Ryan's pretty skinny, but he's a good bloke to work with and it's a fun gig. They pay me to put an a fake tan, freeze my arse off in half enough clothes and hoon around on the set."

“Hoon?”

“Yeah, you know, goof and be an arse. Some days I feel like I’m stealing their money.”

Kili just blinked, obviously not totally processing anything Fili said.

The blond looked at him and went to the fridge. He rummaged around and found a sports drink. Shoving it at the Irishman he said, "Here drink this instead of coffee. It'll help the hangover you're going to have in the morning."

"It will?"

"Trust me. I've been where you are far too many times. Just drink it. Alcohol dehydrates you, so you need fluids. Drink another one or two when you wake up."

Kili was sobering up quickly. He downed the drink with exaggerated care, rinsed the bottle and set it on the side of the sink.

He looked at Fili, a little smile ticking the corner of his lips. "I'm fading fast. There's no way you can get anyone to let you in at this hour. You're welcome to stay"

He waved toward the small living room. "I got the couch at Ikea and I think it was designed by that guy who ran the Inquisition. You can't even sit on it, let alone sleep. I don't want you to think I'm coming on to you, but you are welcome to half the bed. I got a good deal on a decent mattress."

Fili cocked his head and studied Kili for a moment. "I'll take you up on that. You're too drunk to hit on anything except the floor."

Kili nodded. "Yup,” he replied succinctly. “And I'm gonna go to bed before I do just that."

"I'm going to take a shower and wash my fake tan off," Fili said as he rinsed out both coffee cups and set them in the sink. "You go along to bed."

Without further conversation, Kili turned and headed for the bedroom. He managed to get both boots off, strip his jeans off, tripping himself onto the bed in the process. They were still on one leg when he fell back onto the mattress and passed out.

Fili shook his head, pulled the jeans the rest of the way off and covered Kili up. He was snoring softly when the Kiwi headed into the shower.

 

* * * *

 

The light from the window harassed Kili until he groaned and threw an arm over his eyes. He tried to go back to sleep, but he had to pee. His bladder nagged at him until he got up and staggered into the loo. He had trouble aiming his stream, but his head wasn't hammering as hard as it usually did. He finished up and came back out to find that the gorgeous blond hadn't been a dream.

Fili was sleeping on his back, with one arm thrown over the side of the bed, legs akimbo and that glorious long hair spread over the pillow like spun gold. His mouth really was a perfect cupid's bow and Kili could see the shadow of his dimples even with his face at rest. Kili chuckled to himself. He was mentally waxing poetic about a bloke he had pulled out of a letterbox. This was scarcely the best way to meet someone. He still hadn't decided if Fili (was his name really fucking Fili?) was daring or just idiotic. Either way, the scrapes on his chest looked painful and Kili had to resist the urge to lean over and kiss them better.

Reluctantly leaving his slumbering rescue, Kili headed into the kitchen and pulled out another sports drink. He chugged it, forcing his stomach to accommodate the onslaught of cold liquid. Along with the last few swallows, he took a couple of paracetamol. As an afterthought, he opened the cupboard and grabbed a cheap cookie out of a markdown package he'd bought on impulse. That helped settle his stomach and he went back to bed.

When Kili woke again, he rolled over to find that the bed beside him was empty. He sat up, mildly surprised that his hangover wasn't worse. Maybe there was something to this idea of drinking after he'd been drinking. He trudged into the loo, relieved himself and then went into the kitchen.

Fili was sitting at the kitchen table munching on a half a bagel. He looked up when Kili came in. "I called the landlord and he said he's 'busy' so I can't get in for another couple of hours. Sorry about that. If you like I can call one of my mates and go hang out there."

The Irishman walked over to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of orange juice. "You are welcome here. I only moved in a couple of weeks ago and was hoping to meet some of my neighbors." He didn’t add that he hadn’t expected to meet one arse first.

He poured a glass of juice and put a bagel in the toaster. "It's been kind of lonely. I've only been in New Zealand for three months and haven't really met many people."

Fili finished the last bite of his bagel and nodded. "Yeah, there's not much for us to do in Dunedin."

"Us?"

Fili blushed, making him look even more beautiful if that was possible. "Sorry mate, my mistake."

It was Kili's turn to blush. "No problems. I just didn't think it was that obvious."

"It's not, but at one point you had your arm around me and nuzzled my neck." Fili grinned wickedly. "Apparently you like my hair."

Kili's blush deepened and he couldn't meet Fili's eyes. "Oh jaysus, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

Fili stood up and cut him off. "I liked it…a lot."

Kili looked at him with a surprised look that slid into a smile.

Fili continued, "I like your hair too, all dark and tangles." He looked up, a lazy smile deepening his dimples. "And you have the most amazing eyes. Did you know they change color with the light? They’re the color of a good scotch right now."

The good scotch deepened into stout as he looked at the blond. "You're the one with the amazing eyes. They're the color of the summer sky," Kili said softly. "And those dimples. I could spend hours exploring just how deep they go."

"Then why don't you?"

Kili didn't know who made the first move, not that it mattered. All that mattered was that the most gorgeous man he'd ever seen was in his arms, perfect lips reaching up for a kiss.

Somehow they made it back to the bedroom. Kili didn't have any memory of doing that either. What he did remember was pulling off Fili's Tee shirt and bending to explore the curve of his neck, before having his own tugged upward, totally interfering with his worship of the golden chest in front of him.

"You're so furry," Fili whispered, dragging his fingers along Kili's chest and downward to his navel.

"And you're not," came the muffled reply.

"Only because they depilatory me damn near every day." He paused. "Is that a problem?"

Long fingers slid over his chest to gently tweak shell pink nipples. "Nope. As long as it's your chest, it's perfect."

The fingers slid to a stop at the top of the long scratch. "Does it still hurt?"

Fili's eyes twinkled merrily. "Not if you kiss it and make it better."

"I can do that."

The kissing led to licking which led to sucking. Olive skin slid against gold, soft and pink where the swim trunks sheltered the more delicate parts of Fili's anatomy. Fingers explored followed by lips that worshiped the velvet shaft and tender sack.

Fili explored back, reveling in the length of limb and of shaft. He loved the softness of Kili's hair under his palm, almost as much as he loved the crispness of the curls that gathered around the base of his shaft. Shaving was getting to be a thing and Fili hated it. He nuzzled the curls, reveling in the soft musk scent that filled his nostrils, turning him on even more.

When he could take no more, Kili pulled him upward and rolled onto Fili. Their bodies fit easily together as they instinctively made allowances for the difference in their height. Hard shafts rubbed along one another, pinned between the two men, so different and so perfect together. Legs shifted and hands reached out to stroke and beg for more.

The Irishman rolled his hips, getting lost in the feeling of being trapped against Fili’s sweat-slick abdomen. He reached down wrapping his long fingers around them to encompass both shafts and squeeze. He ran his thumb around the tip of Fili’s shaft, eliciting soft moans and a quake of that perfect body.

He needed more. Fili bucked upwards, little mewling sounds escaped as he let the pleasure wash over him, carrying him higher and higher. Kili was with him. The sight of the gorgeous blond far gone in passion was electrifying. His breath caught as he watched peak, sky eyes turned nearly black with lust. Two more thrusts and Kili followed him over the edge, unaware that Fili was watching him          

Afterward, they curled together, reluctant to be parted. They twined together as their breathing slowly came back to normal.

"We need a shower," Fili observed as he nibbled the scruff on Kili's neck.

"Mmmm, we do don't we?" He trailed his fingers through Fili's hair. "I'll give you about a year to stop that."

"Good, because I want to do it for at least that long."

The nibble turned into a nip and Fili sat up before Kili could retaliate. "Seriously, I have to take a shower and be ready to get back into my flat. I have to get some sleep so that I’m fit to work tonight."

"I suppose you do," came the reluctant reply. "This was a brilliant way to meet my neighbor, though."

Fili chuckled. “I just wish it had been a little less embarrassing.”

Kili pulled him close. “Naw, s’okay. If you hadn’t gotten stuck, we wouldn’t be doing this right now. He kissed Fili for emphasis. "It's given me a whole new outlook on getting the mail.."

 

 

The shower was fun. They both had an affinity for play and getting clean quickly became secondary to seeing how hard they could make the other laugh.

The laughter turned to kisses, which slid into caresses. Kili decided that a mutual handjob in the shower had just become his favorite way to wash up. Fili’s kisses and enthusiasm showed that he was totally in agreement.

Dressing was slower than it could have been, but a heck of a lot more fun. Kili didn’t think he could come again, but Fili proved him wrong with a blowjob that nearly made him pass out.

Both men were sad when the landlord knocked at the door and left with Fili in tow.

After a few minutes, it occurred to Kili that he had not gotten Fili’s number. He thought for a moment and then headed for the Kiwi’s flat.

Fili answered the knock and Kili stood there smiling.

He held out his hand.

“Hi, I’m Kili. I live a couple of doors down and I’ve been noticing you. I wonder if you’d like to go out to dinner with me tonight?”

Fili managed to hide a smile. “I’m Fili and I’ve been noticing you too. I’d love to go out to dinner with you.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

Kili gathered Fili into his arms and nuzzled his neck. “I thought you’d like a more dignified way to meet.”

“Is this dignified?” Fili asked as he offered up his mouth for a kiss.

“Comparatively speaking,” Kili replied, his voice muffled by Fili’s lips.

“Get a room,” snapped a passing neighbor.

“We’ve got one,” Fili shot back as he dragged Kili into his flat and kicked the door shut.

“You sure you don’t want to wait until I take you out to dinner?” Kili managed to say when he could free enough of his lips to speak.

“I have something much more delicious in mind,” the blond murmured as he licked a trail of fire from Kili’s ear to the hollow of his throat.

He would have given a snappy reply, couched in the language of his ancestors, but he was too turned on to form a coherent thought, let alone any words. He lifted Fili so that the Kiwi straddled his waist and carried him over to the couch. He was sure they’d find the bed at some point, but at the moment, it just didn’t matter.

As he slid Fili’s Tee over his head, Kili paused briefly to smile.

It was just amazing what you could find in a letterbox, even if it wasn’t yours.

 

 


End file.
